Tell Me Where it Hurts
by ChocoLalaLandGirl
Summary: Why is Akira Kogami always so...bipolar? Is it possible she has a reason for all the hate? Maybe she just needed love. Set two years after Lucky Channel, hope you RnR! Oneshot, rating only for safety; it's probably more like T


The Kogami residence sat at the end of a long street. It was a large home, even though the family housed by it consisted of four members. Inside the house was mostly quiet at the moment, since both of the adults were out at the moment. The only current audible noise was the beeping of a video game being played in the living room. Akira Kogami was in her upstairs bedroom, quietly looking around. Finally, the silence was ended as a high-pitched scream came resonating across the mostly empty rooms.

"TAAAKAAAA!" Akira yelled in her more high atoned voice, rushing down the huge staircase so quickly that most would have assumed she would fall.

"You don't have to yell; I can hear you just fine," Takara, Akira's younger sister, droned monotonically, not taking her eyes from the screen as she shot as virtual army men.

"Where's my book?" Akira exclaimed, ignoring her sister.

"What book?" Takara asked uncaring, her dark magenta hair gleaming slightly as she made a move to shift her eyes momentarily at her older sister.

"You know damn well what book!" Akira yelled, her voice deepening to be more threatening than pleading as she stepped in front of the TV, blocking her sister's view of the screen.

Finally pausing the game, Takara groaned wearily and stood only to flop back down on the expensive, sectional leather couch. "You don't really mean that dumb scrapbook thing you keep under your pillow, do you?"

"It's not dumb and how the hell did you know about it in the first place?"

"Please, Kira, how was I _not_ supposed to know about that? I mean, it's not like it's normal to lock yourself in your room for hours every night crying about some stupid ass pictures," Takara rolled her eyes.

"So...what did you do with it?" Akira said, jumping back up to her more worried than angry voice.

"I showed Mom," Takara hissed and Akira's eyes widened automatically.

"Yo-you didn't!"

"I did," Takara said menacingly and Akira began to feel herself shaking. "And do you know what she did?"

"No," Akira whispered, willing herself not to freak out in front of her two-years-younger sister and give off the illusion that she'd already won this battle.

"She burnt it," Takara's words came out like venom, stinging so much that Akira couldn't help the burning sensation of tears forming in her eyes.

"No," Akira whispered again, trying to sound angry, but her voice couldn't hold enough form to lower to a growl. Instead she was quiet, hurt, and vulnerable.

"She gave me the ashes," Takara said, smirking at the sight of her overwhelming hurt sister. "_Those_ are back under your pillow."

Akira felt herself swirling into a vortex of what she thought would be hate, but turned out to be no more than fear and disease. She wanted to go off, fight, stand so strong and scary that her sister would never do something like this again! But she found herself too shaken and afraid to cuss her out or even throw a punch at the demonic smirk plastered across the offending creature's face. She tried to at least raise a hand and flip her off, but her vision began to blur with unshed tears and her hand was too shaky to move.

_I hate you! _She attempted to yell, but was unable to find her voice. _Fuck you little bitch! Damn you down to hell! Why are you so pathetic you have to try screwing me up just to feel big? _Any of those would have done just fine to prevent her reputation of winning their arguments from being shattered. Any of those could have made her come out on top, seem stronger, not look as broken as she felt. But none of those thoughts made it past the barrier of her voice box. Instead, she involuntarily cried out the weakest thing possible in this situation.

"You're. so. MEAN!"

Akira ran back up to her room, slamming the door so loudly the house quaked for a moment. Takara sat contentedly on the couch. Her smile only widened in seeing her sister cry.

"I win," she muttered before returning mindlessly to the shoot-em-up game she had been playing.

With that blow on her tally-board, Takara now had more to use against her sister. This meant all hell would soon break loose for Akira. And she could no longer stand strong and take it. Not now that she had been seen weakened; Takara would use that as her weakness for as long as she could.

Now at age 16, Akira was fading fast from Japan's top ten cutest actresses and being driven to much more mature pass times. Even back at 14 she could see it coming and began preparing herself for the fall, getting into all kinds of trouble ahead of time so people wouldn't suspect it was a cry for attention _after_ she fell off the big shot charts. Lucky Channel had been her last major gig, and since then she'd done little more than guest appearances in the world of fame. She did, however, rake in more money alone than any of her family, though none of it was entrusted to her.

"You pain in the ass," her mom had scolded once when she asked to have her own bank account. "You _owe_ me more than you'll ever make just for being around here! When you turn 18, THEN you can get up and outta here and fend for yourself. You'd be NOWHERE without me doing what I am!"

She maintained a strong face through it all, seeming unabashed as people looked at her and she practically heard them thinking whore. But here and now in her own home locked in her large, beautiful bedroom, she was vulnerable. Weakened.

She would have simply buried her face and cried into her silky pink pillow case, if she hadn't looked and seen the grayish ashes sticking to the bottom. It made her drop it abruptly on the bed and bite her lip so she didn't scream.

_If you cry now_ she thought, _Takara will hear you and only gain from your sorrow. Hold it in; you're better than that._

Well, she couldn't just sit here! It felt like all she ever was began shriveling up inside of her. Every thing seemed empty and pointless...numb. Could she even feel anymore? Did she even _want_ to when all the world seemed to offer her was pain? She sat on the luscious carpet and dug her lengthy nails into the floor. A full-body mirror sat in front of her and she caught a quick glimpse of her current appearance.

She had grown to her full height of only about 5 feet tall and was thin from starving herself so often in an attempt to look worthy of the modeling opportunities she was rarely offered now. Her hair was still a bright pink, but now chopped down to just a little longer than a pixy cut, since she kept getting frustrated with it and that was the best she could think to do other than shave her head, which would ruin what was left of her public appearance. Her chest was still rather undeveloped, since she trying anything to bulk up may have resulted in the unfortunate weight gain.

All of that was just normal, until her eyes trailed up to meet those of her reflection. Streaks of mascara ran thickly down her now red and blotched face from the tears that refused to stay put behind her lids. Dark blue eye liner smeared next to her eyes, making her look crazy, almost scary! She went ahead with the self-criticism that always accompanied ventures into a mirror.

Her nose was too low on her face, one eye seemed minutely smaller than the other, her cheekbones weren't high enough, her hair never looked right, her face was slightly caved in due to her lack of fair nutrition, her eyebrows raised too much...the list went on and on through her mind until she couldn't take it! She snatched a six inch stiletto heal and hurled it towards the mirror, causing it to shatter and send pointed shards scattered in front of it, only a few inches from her.

_That's seven years of bad luck. The hell does it matter, anyway? How's it get any worse? _She thought, an evil smile curling the tops of her lips ever so slightly. It was a quivering, forced smile that she had only made to prove to herself she wouldn't cry. She reached out and picked up a sharp piece of the glass with a shaky hand. Pulling her orange sundress off entirely, she poised it against her skin and painstakingly carved an X against her left breast.

_Why does my heart still beat? It's not like there's any purpose. _She thought morbidly, scratching the glass across her wrists and body a few times for good measure. Now a few drops of blood began sliding down her skin and she knew she'd better cover them before she stained the precious floor.

_That would probably matter more than me anyhow. _Akira went to her closet and found a black form-fitting shirt in the back, one of the only shirts she owned with an inclosed area across her chest. She slid it on over the lacy red and black bra. It was only slightly loose on her bony frame and small, leaving a strip of her stomach and hip bones showing after she put on black skinny jeans. That meant a that one of the fresh cuts was revealed across her right hip when she stood.

_Who cares? Oh yeah, no one. It's not like anyone'd wanna help anyway. _The girl pulled on some black high-healed boots that reach half-way up her thighs and washed away all the dark makeup under her eyes. Her face was pale by the time she'd applied enough foundation to cover the red splotches left by her tears. With thick, fresh mascara and dark eye makeup, she felt much more satisfied; worthy of the public eye, but surely nothing more. _Well, this is as good as it gets._

"We're home!" her mothers voice called from downstairs.

_Fabulous. Now I've gotta use the freaking window. _She muttered to herself, trying to convince herself that all the pain she was feeling was rage. And rage could be let out if you had enough jack, right?

Akira opened her bedroom window all the way and stood on the window sill outside as she closed it back again. With much practiced skill, she climbed down the bricks far enough that she could jump to the ground, being careful not to twist an ankle in her heals. It was safer to walk, since she didn't want her mom to find out she was sneaking out. Again. So she passed the garage without a second glance.

_Maybe it wouldn't matter if I took the car. Especially if I don't come back this time. _She shook the thought off and sighed, knowing suicide wasn't the answer and that it wouldn't even occur to her once she was good and drunk. But something still felt wrong about it tonight. How many times had she taken the familiar path to that slutty bar downtown? Her police record probably didn't even know at this point. So why did it feel so different now? Like she was forcing herself to go against her will?

The gray skies gave way to a downpour and she didn't bother to quicken her pace, letting her hair fall to a bowl-like shape to shield her face from the rain so the new makeup didn't smear away. _Maybe I'll get lucky and catch pneumonia or something. You can die from that, right? _She continued her walk through the icy hammering rain until she reached a shady part of town. She walked into her regular bar, now strapping from the rain, and stood in the doorway a moment to let some excess water drizzle off her. People automatically moved aside to let her in. She forced a smirk to grow on her empty face.

_Chill out bitch, _she told herself. _It'll all feel better when you drown out the pain with a couple of shots. _Shuddering at even the thought of the alcohol taste, she sat at the bar stool once she arrived and merely stared at the tall glass that held about fourteen shots of liquor.

"No worries, Akira. Half the glass and you'll be buzzin' in no time," the bartender assured her, giving a sly smile.

_Drink the damn glass! It's not like you've got something better to do!_

"Hey, look who it is? Akira fuckin Kogami," slurred the raspy voice of some already drunk dude in her ear. "You got plans for anyone's bed tonight? Or are you still up for grabss," he laughed, trailing a hand across her chest.

"Back up, man whore. I'm not messin' tonight, got it?"

"Chill babe! I'z jus tryin ta do ya a favor," he said, pushing his body close so she was shoved into the bar. He forcefully grabbed her hand and moved it down to his crotch so she could feel the boner.

Akira pulled her hand back and shoved him away. "Back off, dead beat."

Now another man joined him. "You're a little overdressed, aren't ya sweetheart? Wame ta help with thatt?"

She took her glass and sloshed it at both of them spitefully, a glare set on her face. The second guy wiped the alcohol off his eyes with a dirty hand, a creep smile growing on his face. The other man licked his lips seductively, catching a few drops of the drink in his tongue. His eyes now seemed only more hungry.

"Fiesty, aren't we tonight?" the second guys said, rage forming in his eyes. "You really shouldn't'a done that," he slurred, reaching out and quickly grabbing her wrist.

"Let me go NOW! I'm a minor and I can report you for rape if you take one more move!" Akira yelled, only causing the other man to hold her down as she struggled, both hands placed on her chest. She squirmed and tried to get off the chair to kick one, but the second man's leg held her still completely.

He moved in closer and she could feel herself grow tense. _It's just sex. I do it all the time! Why the hell am I fighting it! _She wondered, but found herself suddenly terrified. She kept fighting even as the second man slid his hands under her shirt and ripped it off her body, tearing it practically in half. Some of the bar members whooped and the bartender slid a bottle of vodka to them.

"Now be a good girl and drink this for Daddy," the first man said, shoving the bottle between her lips, not taking it away until she saw she had a mouthful of the bitterly dry drink.

_Don't swallow. Now that your fighting you can't give in; you really fucked up now. _She told herself, spitting the drink in the second man's face, as the other one was behind her and out of range.

"You little bitch. Why I'm gonna-" the man reared back and she braced herself for the collision with his fist, closing her eyes only to find that it didn't come.

She took a peek from under her lids and saw the man's clenched fist inches from her face, but being held in place by the tight grip of another hand. She didn't dare trace the hand to its source just yet, but watched as the man's fist twisted back and he crumpled to the floor. Now her savior's knee went into the gut of the man behind her, knocking him back against the bar counter. Relieved to have been rescued, Akira nearly found herself jumping up to hug the man, who she had yet to even look in the face of, but was suddenly grabbed by the arm and pulled towards the door.

"Come on!" the man said, and she finally couldn't stop herself from looking up into the eyes of none other than her former assistant Minoru Shiraishi.

Stunned to a point she couldn't move, Akira merely stared at him with wide eyes. He was beginning to look annoyed since she didn't follow and the other two men began to recover from the assault. Groaning with impatience, Minoru scooped Akira up bridal style and ran out of the bar with her. It was still raining outside, but he had to set her down a moment on the hood of his car in order to unlock it.

"Get in," he said authoritatively and she blinked once before following his gesture and climbing in to the passenger's side.

She shivered once as he closed the door and ran around to the driver's side. Minoru noticed the shiver and glanced briefly down at her bare body. He pulled off his button-down white shirt, leaving himself with only a soaked-through white undershirt that clung to his well-muscled form, and handed it to her as he started the car.

"Mi-Minoru.." Akira began timidly as he set the heater to full blast and skidded out of the parking lot.

"Don't talk; you'll distract me," he said forcefully. "Put your seat belt on; I'm taking you to my place; you can explain there."

"Thank you," she whispered, knowing he probably hadn't even heard her. It didn't matter; she buckled the seat belt and almost even relaxed as the car sped down the slick wet roads and towards the more suburban area outside of town.

…

Akira followed very close behind Minoru as he lead her up to his apartment on the fourth floor. It was a large building just outside the city, but Akira could tell quickly that it was no first class place. She couldn't help but feel slightly guilty, probably having put down his reputation quite a bit when they worked together.

"Sorry it's kind of a mess," Minoru said, scratching the back of his neck as they entered the apartment.

Akira didn't say anything. She was still too shocked for words.

"Come and sit down," he gestured to the soft-looking couch.

Akira sat down and found herself relieved with the comfort and the way she sank into the worn cloth. It was so nice and soft. She saw Minoru fiddle with the thermostat and end up looking annoyed, punching it before finally sighing and going to a closet by the front door. He pulled some soft-looking blankets from a shelf on top and put them over the back of the couch. Then he tossed Akira a dry gray sweatshirt and pulled another black one from a hanger.

"Put that on; you should get dry and warm up. I'll make some hot cocoa," he said and she couldn't stop herself from stealing glances as he removed his undershirt to replace it with the dry shirt.

She followed instructions and took off the wet white shirt he'd given her before, which had been cold as it clung to her body and now had a few specs of white where her self-opened skin had blotted tiny dots of blood. Minoru noticed the scratches across her body as she put on the dry shirt, but bit his tongue because he wanted to hear her say it on her own.

A few minutes later, he came in with two cups of steaming hot chocolate. He set both on a coffee table, pushing aside papers and wrappers to make room, pulling the table closer so they Akira could reach it without getting up. Minoru set warily on the other end of the couch and fixed his gaze directly on her.

"Take a blanket if you're still cold," he insisted, pulling two down and holding one out to her.

She took it and wrapped it tightly around herself, still looking at him curiously. She didn't mean to stare, but couldn't help it at this point!

"I..." she began, but couldn't find the strength to voice her words.

"Tell me what happened," Minoru said, his voice still commanding, but now it was more softened and nice. Akira almost relaxed slightly.

"I went to the bar and didn't want to-" she started quietly, now turning her gaze down to the sofa so she wouldn't have to make eye contact as she told the story.

"Not that. Tell me _everything_ that happened," he said.

"There's nothing else to tell," she lied.

"Can you look me in the eyes and say that?"

She turned her gaze up slightly and realized that she couldn't. Without her even realizing it, a tear slid down her cheek and landed on her hand. "I'm sorry, Shiraishi," she whispered, unsure why the words had played across her lips. It made no sense!

"Why?" the word could mean anything now. Why was she sorry? Why couldn't she meet his gaze anymore? Why had she been in the bar? … Why?

Akira sighed. "I...I don't know. I can't-" she tried as hard as she could to not cry, but it didn't seem to work. Minoru tentatively reached over with one hand and turned her chin up until he could see her eyes. Behind the wall of tears was sadness. A deep sadness that he would have never expected from what he only had ever know as a shallow girl like Akira.

"Tell me _everything,_" he said, brushing a few stray tears off her slender chin.

"My dad left us...a long time ago really. But he was the only one that ever loved me. Mom thought I was a pain and my sister thinks I'm a bitch...I probably am, but only since he left! I really did try to be good, but...it was hard. I felt like he left because not even he wanted to be there for me. That's when I started being so mean and nasty, but it's only because...I missed him. When he left us I was alone. And all I had left was a scrapbook."

Akira explained the rest of the events that had led them here so far that day. About her sister, who had always been the favorite. That was only because their dad hadn't had as close a connection with her, and anything connected with their dad became instantly despised when he left. She had burned all her memories, pictures, notes, and hopes. Just because of their stupid sibling rivalry! Left with nothing, Akira felt dark and remorse, which is what had brought her to the bar.

"I don't think I even wanted to go there; just part of me said that's what I _had_ to do. That's what Akira Kogami would do and so I made myself go. But I still didn't feel right. That's probably the only reason I didn't let one of those guys get me. That's when you came in and...saved me."

"I didn't save you; I just stopped those lowlifes from harassing you anymore," Minoru said through practically clenched teeth. He took a deep breath and then a long sip of his hot cocoa.

Akira shook her head. "You saved me, Minoru."

"I didn't...anyone would have done it if they weren't all drunk," he said modestly.

Akira refused to believe him. She slid herself closer to him and curled herself up against his warm body. "You saved me," she whispered insistently.

He slung one arm carefully over her shoulders and waited for her to relax against his move. Then he took her arm and carefully pulled up the baggy sleeve to reveal the uneven rows of cuts that had barely blotted up enough to stop bleeding entirely. "I didn't. I intend to though."

"How?" she looked up at him with inquisitive eyes and a piercing gaze that gripped him with a slow chill, making his arm involuntarily hold her closer.

"Well...I..."

"How can you be so nice to me? Even after everything I put you through back on the show? H-how can you still care enough...to help me?"

Minoru paused for a lasting moment. "It's pretty late; do I need to take you home?" he changed the subject.

"No!" Akira answered quickly. "No one cares anyway; they either think I'm still up in my room or I'm out drunk with someone. They won't care," she said.

"Akira..." he began, looking her directly in the eyes. "You...deserve someone to help you. I never knew what all you had to go through...and I'm sorry for judging you so harshly."

"You can't be sorry! It's my fault for being such a bi-"

"No, no it's not! I understand now! And I just want to help you."

Akira felt her eyes welling up with tears again. This had to be the most she'd ever cried in on day before.

"Don't leave me," she whispered, not even thinking about the words before they jumped out into the open. She gasped slightly when she realized she'd said them out loud and involuntarily burst into tears.

"Shh, it's okay," Minoru whispered to her. "I'm here and I won't leave; you'll be okay now. Just tell me where it hurts."

Through her teary eyes, Akira looked up at him. He was so genuine and honest, how could she not trust him now? Even having been led by deceit countless times and led to believe so many lies. She'd never had someone she felt like she could trust...but here he was now. She sat up and he leaned down and their lips pressed together so slowly and sweetly. It was the softest thing Akira had ever felt.

"It doesn't," she said, leaning into his welcoming arms.

**Just a random idea I got while watching Lucky Channel :) I just started wondering what makes Akira...Akira and thus, a new fanfiction was born! Some may call me cray, but I think my favorite characters are Akira and Minoru (don't judge me!) I finished the TV series today nut I don't know if I'll read the mangas...any suggestions welcome :/ My first Lucky Star fic, so be nice but tell me honestly what you thought! I love me some reviews :D**


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